Review: Pokinghorne’s documentary and what the trial was missing

The new series of true Three crimes about the trial that took over the nation brings us closer to knowing what happened to Pauline Hanna?

We all have our addictions, and for eight weeks, in the 2024 mine, it was a caronalist coverage of Philip Polkinghorne’s murder judgment. Day after day, refreshing live blogs, dissecting new episodes of the two simultaneous podcasts, broadcasting old posts from the burner’s reddit allegedly belonging to his mistress Madison Ashton, salivating to the next piece of evidence that can prove in one way or another what happened to Pauline Hanna.

It was a simple situation: either the renowned eye surgeon strangled his wife at her home in Remuera and staged her to look like a suicide (the case of the crown), or she killed herself so unusual that she accidentally framed her innocent husband (the defense). What made him so irresistible is that no scenario seemed totally plausible.

In its good days, the trial was like watching the largest soap opera in the world – Bombshell after Bombshell, all sessions ending in a Cliffhanger, the promise of a star witness or undeniable evidence when turning around the corner. More often, however, it seemed like a cricket test in which one side was drawing, which is more or less what the jury ruled him when they issued a question accurately to the judge before his not guilty verdict.

Most of the jury did not believe that there was enough evidence to support Pauline by committing suicide, the note said, but some of them also believed that the crown had provided enough evidence to prove that Polkinghorne was responsible. Eight weeks and so much personal information later, and no one was closer to knowing what really happened.

It has not helped that two people are better positioned to answer all open questions and explain all the inconsistencies in evidence have never taken the position for different reasons. But would it have ended differently if the doctor had been forced to submit to an interrogation, or if his former lover had appeared to court?

The Three’s Polk: The trial of Philip Polkinghorne documentary series, which features the first significant camera interviews with the two main characters, suggests … Maybe not as much as we expected.

Polkinghorne agreed to share his side of history while waiting for judgment after persistent requests from the documentary executive producer Julia Hartley-Moo. She received a connection with her private investigator in early 2021 of an unknown number, the mysterious interlocutor who describes a husband who was seeing sex professionals and a suspicion that there was something happening “closer to home.” They did not name and never called back, but after reading about their inexplicable death several weeks later, Hartley-Moore was convinced that the interlocutor was Hanna.

The interview-covered by an unconceived male journalist, because Hartley-Moore had already come to the conclusion that Pollkinghorne “has not respect the women”-it is a more tacitar version of that strange police interview shown at the trial, a polykinghorne tip we could have seen if he took the position. At this point, he is still keeping the lie that he did not make methamphetamine (“I don’t even smoke!”) And suggesting that the tens of thousands of dollars that are worth hidden around his house must have belonged to Pauline (“I usually do not hide my methamphetamine in the makeup drawer”). The traces of methamphetamine found in the unsuccessful bathroom could not have been him, he insists several times, because the toilet seat was lowered, and he always raises the seat to pee. (Later, he stated guilty of two accusations of having methamphetamine and a pipe.)

It’s easy to see why Ron Mansfield KC didn’t let him get close to the booth. The interview is quite consistent with the testimonies presented at the trial, as he speaks adept at his late wife with a breath and is strangely derogatory of his character in the other. He sob that she was literally “worked to death” for her work on the launch of the Covid vaccine, then shares her personal theory (“supported by literature”) that her own vaccination the day before her death was managed incorrectly, causing her to develop encephalitis, become psychotic and buys her own life – an unnamed theory in judgment.

The story of the crown, which he strangled his wife in the guest room before taking his body downstairs to staging a suicide – would have been “physically impossible,” he says. “If I did it,” he speculates, entering OJ Simpson’s territory, then he must have had an accomplice. “If there was solid evidence of rocks, why it was necessary [the police] 16 months to charge me? “Question fair, but also:” I’m surprised that they didn’t accuse me of climate change either! ”

Although the documentary is not entirely antipatic with POLKINGHORNE, it is abundantly clear that you cannot trust a word it says. The same can also be true for Madison Ashton, who has come armed not with a smokers, but a series of phrases, describing his distinct look (“Porn Body with a movie star … What you see is what you get, give or accept 10 kg”) and an extensive list of customers (“so many accountants… if you are a customer is a customer”); You can’t help but feel like the Madison Ashton show since the moment it was presented.

Ashton confirms (and has the camera roll to prove) that the version of his relationship presented at the trial was more or less accurate, that they rented an apartment together in Sydney, which was where Polkinghorne was Christmas he said to his wife who was in a self-enforcement retreat and couldn’t look at the phone. She says he told her that he and Pauline were separated for years, and sensally stated that she had invaded his house to commit suicide the morning she died.

The penny fell that he was probably full of shit shortly after the much -released MT Cook, when she was no longer Pollushorne’s lover to her greatest hat, determined to see him brought to court. In a spectacular dramatic turn, she told police that she was willing to use a wire and try to convince him. When the police refused the opportunity to collaborate, she decided to do so anyway, just to pass all the paranoid encounter he was trying to poison his drink or push it out of the porch.

Its history can be bordering ridiculous sometimes, but Ashton’s interview also reveals a certain self -awareness. “You think the defense can tear me to pieces,” she remembers asking a police contact, who responded laughing, of course, of course they would. This and apparently all the other interactions with the police led her to the conclusion that they didn’t respect her much, which is why she got the PIP and refused to appear in court.

She is certain that she could have provided more information about POLKINGHORNE’s appetite for methamphetamine that he claimed not to smoke – in one of the texts shared in the documentary, she describes him as a “drug piglet” – and a valuable view of her unlikely relationship. But the police connection was also right: she would have been evisited by Mansfield. It would have done a big day in the liveblog, but it is hard to imagine that this significantly changes the trajectory of the judgment.

The only pre-judge interview aside, Polkinghorne and his team have refused to participate in the documentary, which means that he exclusively presents people who unequivocally believe that he is guilty: Pauline’s best friend Pheasant Riordan, his brother Bruce, the Crown Promot Alysha McClintock provides all the statements that support the Crown version. “Lying a piece of shit, Burn in Hell,” adds Madison Ashton.

Pokinghorne, unsurprisingly, described the documentary that makes him look like the most innocent living man like “click tabloid.” I described him to a colleague upon returning from pre -visualization screening as “good”. In this case, both can be true at the same time.